


Forming the Crew

by KennDemon



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Female Jack, GTA AU, Grand Theft Auto AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-28 20:05:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3868087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KennDemon/pseuds/KennDemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geoff arrives in Los Santos looking to start his own criminal empire. He knows what he's looking for, but he never expected just how easy it would be to find the right people, even in LS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jack

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first attempt at an RT/AH fanfiction. I don't know how well it will turn out, but I am having fun writing it. Enjoy!

It was raining when Geoff arrived in Los Santos. The weather brought a smug smile to his face. He had heard the legend of the sunny paradise. Apparently it only rained when something particularly nasty rolled into town, as if trying to rid its streets of the filth. Geoff had every intention of being the worst the city had ever seen.

Like every stranger who makes their way to Los Santos, Geoff was there to make a name for himself. But he wasn't looking to be a movie star or agent. No, his intentions weren't nearly as legal.

Ever since he was a kid, he had dreamed of being the leader of a notorious criminal crew. Now that he was an adult, he had every intention of making that dream a reality. And there was no better place to do that than Los Santos.

But before he could start his criminal life, Geoff needed to find his crew. He had thought hard about what kinds of people he wanted. A distraction expert (he was thinking someone with sexy boobs), experts in snipers, heavy artillery, and explosives, and a pilot for difficult getaways.

But first, he decided, he needed a drink.

He opened his car's GPS and ordered it to find the closest bar. It was a series of motions that he knew well, only having to look at the screen after he was done in order to know how far away he was.

He probably shouldn't have looked away from the road though. When he looked back, he had to slam on his breaks.

A boy had wandered out into the street. Geoff honked his horn and rolled down his window to yell at the kid. Apparently the boy took it as an invitation, because he ran up to the window.

“Trick or treat.” He said, holding out a dirt covered hand. He had a stupid grin plastered across his face.

“Fuck off.” Geoff told him, starting to roll up the window. Then, because he wasn't a complete asshole, he added “don't run out into traffic, you'll get hurt.”

Then he drove off to find the bar.

* * *

It was called Vanilla Unicorn, and it was a strip club.

Geoff leaned against the metal bar surrounding the stage, drink in hand, lazily watching the dancers. They were nothing special, but at least the show was something to look at while he thought about his next move.

He realized that, before he could even think about finding crew members, he was going to have to find a base. But even a crappy apartment would work for that, at least temporarily. Once they started bringing in takes, he fantasized about moving into the penthouse of the best apartment complex in the city.

The dancer on stage finished her show and seductively walked off. Geoff drained his drink and left to get another. While he was waiting for his drink, he heard wolf whistles from the other patrons. He turned around to see what all the fuss was about.

A new dancer had come out on the stage. She was attractive, Geoff had to admit, with wavy short auburn hair. Unlike some of the other dancers, her breasts didn’t look disproportionate to the rest of her body. If they were implants, she hadn’t gone overboard.

And she was a good dancer. Her moves drew viewers in as opposed to pushing herself on them.

“Who’s that?” Geoff asked the bartender, nodding at the girl on stage.

“Jaqueline.” The bartender answered, an amused smile on her face. Geoff guessed that he wasn’t the first to ask about the dancer.

“Hm.” Geoff paid for his drink and returned to his spot leaning against the metal bar. He nodded to himself as he watched Jaqueline work. _She’d be perfect._

* * *

 When the strip club closed for the night, Geoff waited in the parking lot. He was going over in his head what he was going to say to Jaqueline to convince her to join him. When he finally saw her come out the door, he still wasn’t sure what the best approach was.

“Oh well.” He said to himself, starting his car. “I’ll just wing it.”

He pulled up next to her and honked his horn.

She looked at him with a sour expression. “I’m off the clock, buddy.” She said when he rolled down the window.

“I’d like to offer you a job.” He said, keeping pace with her as she tried to walk away.

She stopped and looked at him through the window. “I’m not a whore.” She told him after taking in his tattoos.

“I didn’t think you were.” He tried to assure her. He was starting to sweat with nerves. “Um… I’m putting together a team of sorts.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s the target?”

He was surprised. Then he remembered where he was. Of course everyone in Los Santos knew what ‘putting together a team’ meant. “Uh, there kind of isn’t one.” She turned away and he panicked. “It’s more of a long term position!” He called.

She paused and looked back at him. “Long term?”

Geoff nodded. “On a crew.”

He could tell that she was intrigued. “What’s it called?”

“AH.” He told her proudly. He had thought hard about what he would want his crew to be called. The letters were just a sound, but he figured that the authorities would try to find meaning in them to catch the crew.

But Jaqueline frowned and shook her head. “What are you going to do, get jackets with AH embroidered on them?”

Geoff was hurt. “Alright, miss criminal expert, what would you call the crew.”

“Fake.” She said simply. “Creates distance.”

Geoff was impressed. “The Fake AH Crew.” He nodded and reached across the passenger seat to open the door. “So, are you in?”

She smirked and shrugged. “Why not? I can’t dance in my underwear forever.” She got in the car and closed the door

“It’s nice to have you on board, Jaqueline.” Geoff said with a smile, pulling onto the road.

“Jack.” She corrected him. “Just call me Jack.”


	2. Michael

Using the money he had saved up before coming to Los Santos, Geoff bought a small apartment. It wasn’t much, but it would serve fine as a place to crash until he started bringing in real money.

“I’ve seen worse.” Jack commented when Geoff let her into the apartment for the first time. She surprised Geoff by showing up in jeans and a leopard print jacket with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She surprised him even more when she flopped down onto the sad couch and put her feet up on the coffee table.

She gave off a ‘just one of the guys’ vibe.

“What did you expect?” She asked when she caught him looking at her. “Some bitch who’s afraid to break a nail?” She laughed.

Geoff gave a small smile and went to the fridge for a beer. He offered one to Jack, which she took, popping the cap off with her teeth. Geoff sat down and took a gulp.

“So what’s first?” Jack asked. “A convenience store hold up?”

“Not yet.” Geoff told her. “We still need more crew members.”

“Hm.” Jack looked thoughtfully at her beer. She took a swig before saying anything. “I might know someone.”

* * *

Michael lay sprawled out on the couch in his small apartment, dangling a chain in front of his face. Hanging from the chain was a grenade pin. It was special to him, a reminder of a choice he had made that changed his life.

Six months ago, he had been a promising young street cop for the LSPD. Then he had made the decision to throw a grenade at a bunch of armed gunmen instead of using his pistol. The decision had cost two of his fellow officers their lives, and Michael his job.

He wore the pin from that grenade on his chain.

Strangely, when he looked at the pin, he didn’t feel sad. He felt… like he had done the right thing. There was something about explosives that made the young man feel right. They were exciting, and while he knew how to use many different kinds of guns, he would always choose a piece of C4 over an SMG.

There was a knock on his door and Michael sighed. He put the pin away and went to answer it.

He was surprised by the woman on the other side. He recognized her from the few times he had been to Vanilla Unicorn. He would have kept going, except the bouncer had found a grenade in his pocket and Michael had been banned from the establishment.

If he remembered correctly, the woman’s name was…

“Jaqueline?”

She smiled. “Glad you remember me.” She walked into his apartment without him inviting her in and chose a seat on the couch. “This place is a dump.” She commented, looking around.

Michael scowled. “What are you doing here?” He demanded.

“You still playing with explosives?” She asked, prodding at the ignition bomb on his coffee table. He had been studying it after catching someone trying to install it in his car.

Michael knocked her hand away from the device before she could accidentally set it off. “I don’t _play_ with explosives.” He sat down in an armchair that smelled like mould. “They’re my profession.”

Jaqueline smirked. “And do you ever get paid for this… profession?”

She was starting to piss him off. He didn’t want to admit to her that he hadn’t been paid for anything since losing his job as a cop. He was currently a few months behind in his rent, and the only reason he still had an apartment was because his landlord was too busy fucking his neighbour to collect.

When he didn’t say anything, Jaqueline smirked again. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Would you like to be paid to blow shit up?”

Michael’s ears twitched. It was his ideal career, but something about her expression made him hesitant. “What do you mean?” He asked cautiously.

She shrugged. “A… friend… of mine is looking for someone who knows his way around an explosive device.”

He stared at her in surprise. “I’m a cop.” He reminded her.

“You’re a cop killer.” She replied simply.

He glared at her. After a moment he huffed and looked away. “Fine. What’s the job? Breach a bank vault? Blow up a gas station?”

“It’s more of an on-going thing.” He heard her stand up. “Come with me.”

* * *

 “You’re kidding, right?” The tattooed man stared at Michael in disbelief. “Jack, he’s a kid.”

Michael bristled. He was twenty-seven years old; not a kid.

“He’s already killed two cops.” Jaqueline informed the man.

“Would you not keep bringing that up?” Michael hissed to her.

“Why?” She nodded at the tattooed man, who Michael noticed looked a little impressed. “Here, that’s a valuable resume addition.”

The man composed himself and looked over Michael again. “So, Michael, was it?” Michael didn’t bother nodding. “You’re good with explosives?”

“Jaqueline already told you I am.”

“Please.” Jaqueline cut in. “It’s Jack.”

The man stuck out his hand. “Geoff Ramsey.” He introduced himself. “Leader of the Fake AH Crew.”

Michael raised an eyebrow, looking around the crappy apartment. “You’re a crime boss?”

“We’re a start-up.” Geoff said casually. “Are you in?”

Michael looked back at him. “I get to blow shit up?” Geoff nodded and Michael grinned. “Then I’m in.” He clasped Geoff’s hand firmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this one could have turned out better, but I'm not sure how to improve it. The next chapter is one that I'm really excited about, though.


	3. Ryan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing about guns, so I'm sorry if some of the stuff in this chapter is a little inaccurate. I tried to do research, but I wasn't really sure what to search for.

Ryan enjoyed his job. Sure, his boss was a piece of shit to him, but no job was perfect. What he liked about working at Ammu-Nation was all the guns. Ever since he was a kid, Ryan had loved guns. And working where he did, he felt a pride that he was helping others find that same love.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

In reality, most of the people he dealt with only wanted a gun because it was a fast and simple way to kill an enemy.

His boss didn’t care about selling to minors or criminals, so Ryan often found himself handing over pistols and assault rifles to people who really shouldn’t be anywhere near the weapons.

Like the skinny kid who had just purchased a pistol.

“Do you want to get some ammo for that thing?” Ryan asked.

The kid looked down at the pistol, then back up at Ryan with a sheepish grin. “I can’t afford any bullets.”

Ryan fought back a laugh and nodded. At least he knew the kid wasn’t going to go and shoot himself by accident. He called a friendly farewell as the kid left the store.

“James!” His boss shouted to him. Ryan looked up and he jerked his head toward the back of the store. “Go unpack the new armour that just came in.”

Ryan nodded and did what he was told. The store carried five different levels of armour, so there were five boxes waiting for him in the back. He frowned, not enjoying doing anything that didn’t have to do with the guns. He sighed heavily and started opening the boxes.

“No sudden movements!” Someone suddenly yelled from the front area of the store. “Just hand over the heavy weapons and whatever’s in the register!”

 _Seriously?_ Ryan rolled his eyes and made his way back to the front of the store, reaching for the pistol in his waistband. _Who robs of gun store?_

Idiots, it turned out. There were three figures standing in the middle of the store, faces half covered with bandanas. The one in the middle was holding a pistol sideways like a stereotypical gangster, while the one on the left held two grenades and the one of the right carried a large bag, presumably for their haul. Ryan could tell right away that they were armatures.

“You’re going to hurt yourself.” He said casually, leaning against the counter. He nodded at the leader’s gun. “Mind if I show you how to use it properly?”

The man looked between his partners, then at Ryan and the pistol he was holding. He nodded at Ryan’s boss, who was standing at the cash register. “Shoot him first.”

The man had barely finished speaking before Ryan’s boss was falling to the floor, dead. Ryan hadn’t even had to look at him to shoot him between the eyes. He had to admit, it felt good.

Three sets of eyes widened and stared at Ryan as he set his pistol down and jumped over the counter.

“First off,” Ryan said calmly, stepping up beside the leader and nodding at his pistol. “While this may look cool, you’re going to break something if you ever fire it. May I?”

The man slowly nodded, eyes till fixed on where Ryan’s boss had been.

Ryan placed a hand over the pistol and readjusted it in the man’s grip so that it was upright. Then he swung the man’s arm to that the gun was pointing out in front of him rather than being held at his side.

“You’ve got a sight.” He said, tapping the piece of metal. “Use it.”

He stepped aside and the man aimed at the back wall of the store. He fired a shot, leaving a perfect hole in the wall. He nodded appreciatively.

Ryan jumped over the counter again and started taking guns down from the wall. “Shotgun, sniper, SMG…” He called out each gun’s name as he tossed it to the guy with the bag, who he now realized was a woman.

When he was done with the guns, he started tossing ammo to the woman. For a moment he wondered how much to give them. _Fuck it._ He thought, handing over every last bullet they had.

Finally, he moved to the register, kicking his boss’s lifeless body aside. He opened it and pulled out all of the money. “There ya go.”

The man with the grenades nodded at the second register, the one closer to the door. “What about that one.”

“It’s a decoy.” Ryan said simply. “It’s empty and hooked up to an alarm system.”

He leaned against the counter, perfectly calm even though the leader was now pointing a properly held pistol at him. “So, you guys are starting a new crew, right?” The silent glances they exchanged was answer enough. “Mind if I join?” He kicked his boss’s body again. “I’m kind of out of a job now.”

The woman and the man with the grenades looked to their leader, who took his time looking between the pistol in his hand, the guns stuffed in the woman’s bag, the pistol Ryan had left on the counter, and Ryan’s dead boss.

“You know guns?” He finally asked.

Ryan nodded.

The man pulled down the bandana covering his mouth and nose, revealing a grin. “Then I don’t see why not.” He put his gun away and stepped forward, hand out to shake Ryan’s. “Welcome to the Fake AH Crew.”

Ryan suppressed a laugh at the name. _This is going to be fun._


	4. Ray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know that Ray has left AH, but I started doing planning work for this story before he left. Also, he is awesome and will always be part of the Fake AH Crew.

"I’ve got a target for us to hit." Geoff announced proudly, spreading out his plans on the coffee table. They were all gathered in his living room, since his small apartment didn’t have enough rooms to have a dedicated heist room.

Each of his crew members looked up from what they were doing. Michael was fashioning a special belt for carrying his different explosives, Ryan was cleaning one of his guns, and Jack had just gotten out of the shower and was drying her hair with a towel. They all looked intrigued.

“What is it?” Jack asked, leaning over the table.

Geoff tapped his finger on the blueprints. “A bank.” He told them. “If we’re going to be a real crew, we can’t be living in shit-holes. We need money for a better base of operations.”

“Makes sense.” Ryan nodded. He put down his gun and leaned forward to look at the blueprints of the building. “What’s the plan?”

Geoff explained his idea to them, very proud of it.

Jack was to go in first and flirt with the security guard. When the rest of them actually started the heist, she was to act scared and get the guard to sneak her out the side entrance, where she would promptly dispatch him and secure that exit.

Ryan would be in charge of crowd control, shooting anyone who tried to be a hero. Once they were making their getaway, it was his job to shoot any cops that were chasing them.

Michael would use sticky bombs to breach the vault. After loading as much money as he could into a bag, he would lead the exit from the bank.

And Geoff was their getaway driver, sitting outside with the car already running.

When Geoff had finished explaining the plan, he looked at his crew, expecting them to be pleased. Michael and Jack nodded, but Ryan looked worried.

“What if the cops show up while we’re still in there?” He asked.

“Then you shoot them.” Geoff said simply.

Ryan didn’t look convinced. “That’s a lot of people to focus on. A bank full of people _and_ cops coming through the doors. I can’t have my eyes on all of them at once.” He sat back and shook his head. “I’d be a lot more comfortable if we had someone with a gun trained on the front doors.”

Geoff frowned. To be honest, he would have preferred to have a fifth person. A sniper on the roof across the street would have been ideal, but he hadn’t had any luck locating anyone yet.

“We hit it in a week.” He told them firmly. “I’ll keep looking for a sniper, but I can’t make any promises.”

* * *

Ray stood quietly at the back of the store, glaring at the beer. All he ever did at work was stock and re-stock the beer fridges. By the time his shift ended, he was so sick of looking at it that he couldn’t stand the thought of drinking one to relax.

“Hey, man.”

Ray glanced away from the beer when someone spoke right beside him. A heavily tattooed man was standing beside him, his body angled toward the beer fridges.

"Do you have any more of these?” He asked pointing at one of the brands of beer.

Ray took a moment to process what the man was asking. There were at least five cases sitting in the fridge. _Who could possibly need more than that all at once?_

"I’m throwing a party.” The man said casually, guessing what was making Ray confused. “We’re all pretty heavy drinkers.”

“I can check the back.” Ray offered, even though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to find anything.

The man grinned. “Thanks man.”

Just as Ray turned to go check, someone else entered the store. He knew this because the electronic bell connected to the door went off.

And it kept going off.

“Damn.” Ray sighed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an elastic band. Looping it around his fingers, he shot it at the little device beside the door. The bell stopped chiming.

“Sorry about that.” He muttered to the tattooed man beside him. The bell malfunctioned all the time, but his boss was too cheap to get it fixed.

Ray went to the storage area of the store and was surprised when he was able to find two more cases of the beer the man had been looking for. He brought them out to where the man was still standing beside the fridges. “Will this be enough?” He asked.

But the man looked distracted. He was staring at the electronic bell on the other side of the store with wide eyes. When he heard Ray speak, he looked at him, then back at the bell, and back at Ray again. “How did you…” He started, pointing at the bell.

Ray shrugged and shifted the weight of the cases he was holding. “It’s temperamental. A little nudge usually fixes it.”

The man shook his head. “That’s not what I-” He stopped and looked at Ray with a suddenly serious expression. “Are you any good with a sniper rifle?”

The question surprised Ray. It wasn’t the kind of thing you asked as part of light conversation, even in Los Santos. “Uh, I’ve never tried one.”

“Give it a try.” The man advised, looking at Ray thoughtfully. Somehow he managed to gather all seven cases of beer and went to pay for them.

* * *

The man’s words burned at Ray until he finally gave in and went to an Ammu-Nation. They let him test a sniper rifle, and everyone present was surprised by the result. Ray was a natural with the thing.

A few days later, the tattooed man showed up at his work again. Ray told him about testing the sniper.

“I knew it.” The man threw an arm around Ray’s shoulders. Before Ray could protest, the man was leading him out of the store and into a car.

The next thing Ray knew, he was inside a small apartment being offered a position in a criminal crew.

Naturally, he accepted.


	5. Heist

“Can I take this one?”

Geoff looked up from the spread of masks on the table as Ryan picked one up. The dark skull mask slipped easily onto his head. When Ryan looked at him, it sent a shiver down his spine.

“Go ahead.” Geoff said, turning away. He picked a bison mask for himself, scanning the rest of the group from behind the meshed over eye holes.

They were getting ready to head out on their first heist. Everything was in place. The only thing left to do was to decide on masks to wear. It was apparently a very important aspect of heist preparation.

Since they were just starting out, they didn’t have the financial resources to go out and buy matching masks. They had to make do with an old collection of Halloween masks Geoff had brought with him when he moved to Los Santos.

“This is fucking creepy.” Michael laughed, putting on a cupid mask. He gave Geoff a thumbs up and started attaching explosives to his belt.

“This will work.” Ray muttered, tying a simple white mask behind his head.

Geoff nodded. He handed Jack a flimsy plastic bird mask that she could discreetly tuck into her jeans pocket for after she left the bank. He was struck again with nerves over how she was in the most danger of being recognized after all of this was done.

She looked up and saw him looking at her. “I’ll be fine.” She insisted for probably the fifteenth time that day. She punctuated it by slipping a pistol into her purse.

Geoff sighed and nodded. “Alright.” He snatched his car keys up from the table. “Let’s head out.”

* * *

_Well, this is boring._

Jack sighed to herself. She was standing quietly in the alley behind the bank. The door was wedged firmly shut and barricaded with a dumpster. She had even flung the dead security guard on top of the dumpster, more for something to do than to help block the door.

“There must be something more productive I could be doing.” She muttered to herself.

She trusted Geoff’s plan, and she didn’t want to do anything to interfere with the rest of the crew, but still… She had skills that could be put to use; skills none of the others had asked about.

“I’ll surprise them.” She decided, squaring her shoulders and walking out of the alley. It wasn’t like they would miss her there.

She found a fast looking car parked on the side of the road and smashed the window. Growing up in Los Santos, she knew exactly how to hotwire it. In no time she was speeding down the streets, headed for the airport.

Jack had spent plenty of time there as a teen, so she knew where she was going, and just what she was looking for.

She rounded the corner just in time to see the Cargobob lift off the ground. She reached for her pistol, prepared to shoot the pilot through the window before he could go any farther into the air.

But she didn’t need the gun.

Just as Jack was stepping out of the car, the Cargobob shakily landed again. It wasn’t graceful in the least, and the sound of it hitting the ground didn’t sound too good.

“Bollocks!” The pilot yelled.

Jack moved forward, raising her gun and pointing it at the pilot. He was a young man, and when he saw the weapon pointed at him, he paled.

“Move.” Jack ordered, gesturing with the gun. “I’ll be taking this.”

“What?” The pilot cried, his British accent making it sound more like ‘wot’. “You can’t take this ‘bob, I’m stealing it!”

Jack almost laughed at how childish he sounded. She lowered her gun and firmly pushed the would-be pilot over into the co-pilot seat. She jumped in and started the blades, lifting off of the ground smoothly.

“So that’s how you do it.” The boy beside her breathed, watching as Jack effortlessly guided the Cargobob back toward the bank.

They were almost there when the sound of police sirens cut through the rotating helicopter blades. Jack scanned the streets, looking for the chase.

“What’s going on down there?” The boy asked, leaning out the window to get a better look.

Jack spotted Geoff’s car, speeding down a street. A group of five police cars weren’t far behind him. From her vantage point, Jack could see another group of police screaming down a connecting street, aiming to cut off the fleeing criminals.

“Hold on.” Jack told the boy. She swung the Cargobob down, angling for Geoff’s car. The boy cried out in surprise, but Jack ignored him, focusing completely on her angle of decent. The last thing she wanted to do was misjudge it and slam into the car, killing the whole crew.

* * *

“They’re right behind us!” Michael yelled, throwing a grenade out the window. He managed to blow up two cars, but the other three swerved and continued their pursuit.

“Hang on.” Geoff said, putting more pressure on the gas pedal. It was already on the floor, and the car couldn’t go any faster. “I’ll lose them.” He promised, trying not to doubt his own words.

Then a second batch of police came out of a side street ahead of them. Geoff slammed on the breaks.

“Fuck!” He swore as the cops in front of them got out and pointed guns at them. He looked around, but couldn’t see a way out of this mess.

That’s when a shadow passed over the car.

“What the-” Geoff looked up to see a large helicopter hovering just above his car. Its appearance also baffled the cops, who lowered their weapons as they looked away from the bank robbers.

A hook dropped from the bottom of the helicopter. It scraped against the roof a few times before catching hold securely. Geoff held his breath as his car was lifted off of the ground.

“Who’s flying that thing?!” Ryan exclaimed, leaning out the window to look up at the helicopter.

Geoff shook his head, wondering just that. He heard his cell phone ringing and hesitated a moment before answering it. “Hello?”

“Looked like you could use a pick up.” It was Jack on the other end.

“Is that you flying this thing?” Geoff asked, astonished.

“Yeah.” The helicopter angled slightly as it changed direction. “Now let’s get out of here before the cops get their own choppers in the air.”


	6. Gavin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long to post this. I just wasn't happy with it. I still don't think it's as good as some of the past chapters, but I can't think of anything to do to fix it, so here it is.

Gavin stared in amazement out the back window at the remains of the Cargobob. When the woman had landed it in the woods outside of Los Santos, one of the men in the car she had picked up had stolen another car. He had been roughly pushed into the back seat and watched as the man wearing a cupid mask blew up the Cargobob.

Now they were driving back into the city.

“So why’s he here?” The driver asked roughly, removing his bison mask. He glared at Gavin in the rear-view mirror. His pale eyes were like ice and they sent a shiver down his spine.

“He was in the Cargobob.” The woman explained from the front passenger seat. She also removed the flimsy mask she had been wearing.

Gavin looked out the window and saw that the two men hanging onto the outside of the car had also removed their masks. Now the only one whose face he couldn’t see was the man sitting beside him. He started to sweat. The skull mask looking at him was unsettling, and the powerful gun in the man’s lap did nothing to help.

“Why didn’t you kill him?” The skull mask man asked. Gavin pressed himself against the car door when the man’s hand twitched against his gun.

“It wasn’t his, he was trying to steal it.” The woman explained, starting to laugh. “He looked so pathetic trying to get it off the ground.”

“So he’s a useless thief?” The skull mask man raised his gun and pointed it at Gavin’s head. “Sorry kid.” He said, but there was a chuckle in his voice.

Gavin clamored for the door, but it was locked. He panicked, covering his head with his arms and shutting his eyes. _Why did I leave my gun at home?_ He lamented. Then he remembered that he didn’t have any bullets for it. While it worked to get him out of situations with street punks, it was useless against these armed bank robbers.

He sucked in a breath and waited for his life to end.

“Wait!”

Gavin cracked open an eye when he heard the command. The driver had reached back and placed a hand on the masked man’s gun. He was watching Gavin in the mirror.

“So you can’t fly worth shit?” He asked, the first piece of the conversation to be directed at him as opposed to about him.

Gavin shook his head. “I was trying to learn.” He said timidly. He knew that he needed the protection of a crew, and that Los Santos gangs were always looking for pilots. Even though he knew nothing about planes and helicopters, it was his last shot at surviving this city.

But it was looking like, just like every other thing in his life, he had failed. He was going to be shot, and by a gang who didn’t even bother to coordinate their masks.

“Is there anything you are good with?” The driver asked him. His gaze softened, and the first hints of a smile played at his lips. “Anything at all?”

Gavin started to shake his head. Then he thought of something. It was useless in street life, but since the man had asked…

“Cameras.” He answered. “I’m good with cameras.” He had been learning to be a slow motion cinematographer before he came here, looking for his big break.

The man nodded and looked away from the mirror. He was pulling into an underground garage bellow a crappy apartment building. The car was silent as he parked. Then the doors unlocked and Gavin was being prodded with a gun to get out.

With the skull masked man’s gun pressed against his back, he followed the rest of the group up into one of the apartments. Right away he spotted heist planning materials strewn on the coffee table. The bags of money were dumped on top of them.

“So…” The driver, who also appeared to own the apartment, and was probably the group’s leader, dropped onto the couch. He eyed Gavin with a smirk. “Cameras?”

Gavin nodded and the man motioned at a chair. He sat stiffly. He was aware of the rest of the crew retreating into other parts of the apartment, leaving him and the man alone. Even with the absence of the skull mask man, Gavin didn’t feel any safer. He knew that the man in front of him probably had his own gun, and one that was actually loaded.

“Are you a hacker?”

The question surprised Gavin. His mouth hung open for a while before he could make himself form words.

“I, uh… No.” He admitted. He figured it would be best to be completely honest with the man. Lying would do him no good.

The man frowned and Gavin panicked. “But, um, I could probably figure it out.” He had used a camera remotely once before. How different could it be? He had broken enough equipment to know how to take out security cameras anyway.

“I’ll make you a deal.” The man said, leaning forward and smiling. “Because there’s something about you that would make me feel bad if I killed you.” His words made Gavin gulp. “Why don’t you join our crew? As our hacker.”

“What?” Gavin blinked in surprise. “Seriously?” He felt himself relax when the man nodded. “Okay.” He grinned.

* * *

It turned out he was actually a pretty decent hacker, and he could do the work remotely. Which was good, because every time he went out into the field, someone on their side got hurt.

Geoff watched, pleased, as the lad meshed into their crew. He quickly became their quirky puppy that everyone wanted to protect. He made them laugh, even when he enraged them, and that was something Geoff hadn’t even thought they might need.

As a crew, the six of them pulled off more and more complicated heists. Sure, some of them failed, but most of the time they got away with only a few grazed pullet holes. It wasn’t long before each of them could afford their own high end apartment.

Of course, Geoff’s apartment was still their base of operations.

Every morning he woke up with a smile on his face, knowing that he had achieved his goal. Their name was known, and feared. They were well on their way to ruling the city.

And Geoff was their leader.

He was the king of the Fake AH Crew.


End file.
